An Assassinated Heart
by The Amber Author
Summary: Pre-assassin Amy Cahill is mean, lean, and eighteen- she can kill, maim, and ruin lives. In short, she'll never put down a challenge. But when a mysterious man comes to her with an equally mysterious target, can Amy be tough enough for the job? The answer, is NO. Not when the target was Ian Kabra.
1. One Wrong Target

I walk into the crowded pub, adjusting the hood over my head just in case. I have my contacts on, but I can't count on myself being beyond recognition. I glance at my watch- half past ten. My client should be here any moment.

As if a cue has been given, he sits. He's a tall man, I can tell this by his build, but he's hooded as well so I can't see his face. I don't mind much- my clients are usually hooded, too afraid to reveal their identities. It was rare to see one without a mask.

Sometimes I wonder why they bother with the hoods and balaclavas and masks- but I suppose ruining someone's life makes people queasy.

It was like that with me, at first, too. I was too afraid to make anyone miserable- too afraid to _kill._ But the soft Amy is gone now. Ever since that wretched man tried to kidnap my brother Dan and I, I've learnt that being a softy will never help. Now I know better- now I know that sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures. In a way, this makes me feel better. When I get the feeling that I'm making a terrible person miserable, it's like a solace of sorts. But _only_ terrible people. Scammers. Criminals. Murderers. I know the risks and I knew the danger; and I don't mind.

The man sits next to me, and smiles under his hood- something about the way his lips curled sent a shiver through me, which is not a common occurrence.

His smile widens as the bar lady approaches, smiling in turn. "What shall I get you two?" she asks in a sugar-coated voice.

"I'll take some beer," the strange says. His voice is cold, and somewhat…familiar. Like an old memory I can't grasp.

The lady nods and smiles, turning to me and repeating the question.

"I'll just have some water if that's okay," I say, trying to sound casual. She raises a blond eyebrow and walks away, coming back moments later with our orders and moving on to someone else far across form where we sir.

"So, tough assassin is a woman?" the stranger asks, an amused smile visible under the shadows of his hood.

"One you shouldn't underestimate." I say coldly. I was mean, lean, and eighteen. "And I'm a _pre-assassin,_ Mister. I don't kill. I only-"

"Maim, injure, ensure misery, blah ," he says in a exasperated voice. "Listen, I have a name for you- a guy. He's about eighteen, owns his own house, and the worst person imaginable."

I lean forward, relaxing as we get to business. I take a sip of water to show that I'm still listening.

"Trust me, you'll want to kill this one." he says with a sharp smile.

"What is he, this time? A thief? A hacker, perhaps?" I inquire, getting more curious by the second, wondering what horrible thing someone my age could have done. I've only ever killed twice before in my life, and only in rage. The images of the dead still haunt the back of my mind.

"You do research, don't you?" asks the stranger. "You'll know. I'll send you the money once the job is done, sweetheart." He downs his beer in a gulp, and slides me an empty paper before putting both hands in his pockets and strolling away into the crowded night, losing himself in the large group of people easily.

I feel a chill rush through me as I remember his voice, his irking smile…A feeling I cannot shake off takes over me. Pushing all my suspicions away, I pick up the paper and turn it over, and stare.

Only two words are written on the paper, and they feel too wrong to be true.

 _Ian Kabra._


	2. Of Amber Eyes

It doesn't take a lot to find Ian Kabra. My client has left me barely any information, but the guy has an entire Wiki page dedicated to him. He's originally British, I learn once I manage to snag my laptop away from Dan. He's also apparently very rich- this cements my theory about him being a hacker or a thief, but he seems to come from a well-respected family, which perishes my doubts as it should be clearly evident that his money is probably through inheritance and not thievery. I think, at least. He has a sister, Natalie Kabra, and…I squint at the screen, frowning slightly, just to make sure I have read the sentence before me correctly.

"What is it this time?" Dan says, leaning forward and looking at the screen. I know my brother highly disapproves of all that I do, but he leaves me to it anyway. Dan is fifteen, and too stubborn to get a girlfriend yet. He's good looking- blond hair on the dark side and green eyes like mine. But my brother is always painfully immature, and always willing to make friends with the younger sort like our neighbor, Atticus Rosenbloom.

"I don't know," I admit wearily, blinking. "My new client says he's one malicious guy, but…"

"Malicious?" Dan asks, his eyebrows shooting upwards again.

"Evil," I translate, rolling my eyes but smiling fondly at his lack of vocabulary. I don't know how Dan can spend hours on end with someone like Atticus Rosenbloom, whose casual day-to-day conversation includes phrases like 'in actuality' and several 'big-words' without feeling the urge to grab a dictionary.

"But, he goes to our school."

Dan steals a look at the screen and reads the part of a paragraph which consists of the Kabra's yearly earnings. He lets out a slow whistle.

"People with money like _that_ going to public schools? That just spells suspicious."

"I know," I tell Dan, nodding. "But that's not the strangest part…he just moved out of Britain this year to finish his schooling in America. I just don't understand why- he must be here for something, but I can't jump to conclusions, can I?"

"No, no you can't." Dan agrees, shrugging. "But what you can do is get to sleep. Nellie will kill you if you don't, soon- the bags under your eyes are so large I bet I can fit my entire card collection in them."

"Shut up," I say, rolling my eyes once again. Nellie, our legal guardian is a cook in-training, but she has many talents, too. She came back from chef-school just a few days ago to drop us a hello. I like Nellie- no one can't like her, really. And she makes awesome casseroles, too.

All thoughts of Nellie and casseroles leave my mind as I lean in and squint again, just in case. His family donates a large sum of money every year, probably for publicity. His father owns several companies, and…..Yep. He's still attending our school. I can't help but feel uneasy about this- it just seems like too much of a coincidence. But I'll see him- when school reopens in a week, I'll learn more about Ian Kabra- maybe even try to befriend him, to get closer and know what he's up to. To hit him hard when he least expects it.

I still wonder how a person my age can cause so much trouble- I know I'm not one to speak, since I myself aren't exactly a normal teenager, but I still have a hard time imagining it. I remember the voice of the man who had spoken of Kabra with such causality- there was no spite in his voice, no venom indicating he's ever had personal experience with him. But there was something needy in his tone, I recall- like he wanted this job done, yet not really. It's a feeling I can't fully explain.

I sigh and turn off the laptop, promising myself a better research session tomorrow. Nellie really will kill me if she finds me here, while it's eleven o' clock, although I'm a legal adult and can do what I want. She's too protective, that one. Not that I mind.

I trudge upstairs to my room and turn off the lights, all the while lying in bed and thinking, what kind of a person _is_ Ian Kabra?

-o-

The days after that pass by quickly- Nellie has made us a home-made gelato which is pretty good, and Fiske, who had just come back from his trip to Singapore, shows us pictures of several tourist sites. He's a free bird, Fiske is. I guess he has a right to be one after being tied down for all these years. He and Nellie don't think much of my job, either- they constantly try to draw me back, but I can honestly say I'm in too deep. I _will_ live out this habit one day, but right now, I can give others revenge they can't take themselves. No more sitting in the corner for me. Atticus comes to stay with us for a couple days so he and Dan can rant about immature things 13/15 year olds should have grown out of ages ago. I wave to Jake Rosenbloom from the window as he drops his half-brother and leaves. His cheeks turn a strange tone and he waves back.

While all this is very eventful, I do not find any other information that helps me identify Ian Kabra's crimes….If the guy has any. I think I understand his personality a bit now- he seems like the snotty kind, but I don't pre-assassinate people for being pompous. I can't just climb through a window and slit someone's throat because they were brats, or half the population of the world would be gone by now.

That is one of the reasons why I'm extra-ready when the first day of school arrives. I pack my bag and get ready for my last year at high-school. It's a pleasant winter day. I tie my hair up in a pony-tail so the wind doesn't blow it into my eyes, the way it usually does.

My heart throbs against my rib cage in a fit of excitement- I think it is because I was finally crossing the line, tipping my boundaries. In school, I am Amy Cahill, just another normal high-school student going through life, and that's how I always wanted it to say. At night, when no one's watching, I'm someone else. Someone stronger, tougher and more willing to dive into danger. But this is the first job that will combine both my worlds. I wonder with a sudden rise of anxiety if it'll go alright. I trust my agility and my ability to get away from arising problems, but that's the other me, the pre-assassin. Amy Cahill, on the other hand…

I shake my head firmly and step into the school bus, pausing to look around for a set of amber eyes and a mess of black hair. No Ian Kabra here. I expected as much- strange as his behavior has been in choosing to attend a public school rather than a private one, I never thought that Kabra will be willing to ride a bus with a bunch of mundane people. I take my usual seat at the back as Dan places himself in the front with his friends.

Sinead is already there. She smiles and greets me as usual, before getting back to her book. Reagan mutters something about Sinead having her nose glued to a book all the time. The norm, in short. Sinead, who is an avid researcher, is not particularly fond of reading. She does it a lot, but only because it helps her fish out the information she needs. I, on the other hand, like reading well enough. Reagan, who's more into physical activity and sports doesn't think that's a very good characteristic.

Ham, Reagan's brother, always agrees with that whole-heartedly. They were my group of friends at school, and quite close to our family.

For a moment we ride in peace, and then, Sinead and Reagan start arguing about something like they always do. Hamilton just sits in the background and listens like it's a very amusing radio program. I smile, but it quickly slides off as I remember how slightly different my day is going to be.

We finally come to a stop, and students begin to file out of the bus. The four of us make our way out of the bus with the rest. Sinead closes her book about salamanders, and stuffs it into her bag so she can see well as she pushes her way through Hamilton and Reagan. I slide by with ease.

We're the last ones to go down, so the automatic doors close behind us raucously and drive away.

"Well, see you guys later then," Sinead says pleasantly, waving us a quick good-bye and leaving.

"See you, Ames." Ham says, and offers a fist- I bump his good-naturedly. Reagan says a hasty good-bye and leaves with her brother.

I try to search for Dan in the crowd of students, but I can't see him. He must have been showing Atticus around- it was his first year in high-school, after all.

I hoist my bag up onto my shoulders and walk through the campus, trying to concentrate on the fact that it will be my last year before college, and not on my dreadful mission. I'm ashamed to admit that I don't make the slightest effort to look for Ian Kabra.

In the auditorium, we're handed our schedules. I see Dan and Atticus at the back. Atticus was looking at the students as if they were strange extra terrestrial beings. Dan looks like triumphant.

I look at my schedule and notice that my first class is History. I sigh. Standing up, I begin to walk down the familiar corridors while Dan shows Atticus the way, trudging by my side one he stops me.

Maybe, I think, there's no use of searching for Kabra here? If I'm lucky, even, he may not share any classes with me. Maybe it isn't really necessary to do this now, when I'm least comfortable.

Maybe-

I take in a breath of surprise as I bump into someone- my books fall over the floor and all the thoughts rush out of my head as pure annoyance surges through me.

"Dude!" Dan says, his eyebrows arise in a frown.

I look up to see the person who'd knocked into me so rudely, ready to demand an apology. I freeze.

I don't know what made me do it. But my best guess is that it's his eyes.

They were amber- bright, mysterious and so captivating. Their color shone uniquely and brightly like a pair of rare brown jewels flecked with specks of gold. I let go of a breath I aren't aware of.

His hair is slick and black, neat and sticking to his scalp, which a bit too thick to look perfectly organized. I feel a crazy urge to reach over and mess it up to see how much more appealing it will look without all that gel. His face is tan and toned flawlessly. Unlike the others, his clothing wasn't as casual toned. It looked more costly and of a different making.

Only my brother's awkward cough brings me back to reality, and I gulp. What was I thinking? What just happened.

"I-I- look where you're going," I say, my cheeks red from taking so long to say it and stuttering along the way. The stranger stares down at me and his lips curl into a near-sneer, before he catches himself, rolls his eyes, and bends down to pick up my books the same time as I do, putting us in a rather awkward position.

He hands me my books just a tad roughly and strolls away, my eyes trailing him until he melts in to the crowd. My arms are still tingling with an annoyingly strange sensation where he'd pushed the books and his skin made contact with mine for the briefest of moments. His amber eyes seem to flicker in front of my vision even after he is gone, which makes me shake my head in irritation to shake it off.

"Amy?" Atticus asks, looking at me in concern.

"I'm fine," I say automatically, not really aware of what I'm talking about.

"That guy was a jerk," Dan says, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "Looks like he doesn't belong, too. I'll bet you anything his mummy and daddy are rich." Dan says in a whiny imitation of what he thinks brats sound like.

I normally smile or roll my eyes, once again, at my brother's immaturity, but all I can do is stand there, still, rooted to my spot as I think his words over. _Rich.._ And suddenly, those eyes seem all too familiar.

"It's Kabra!" I cry, causing the nearest people to look at us. I slap a hand to my mouth in disbelief, both that I had been stupid enough to say it out loud and that I didn't recognize him sooner.

"Cobra-what?" Dan asks, but I'm too dazed to care.

Suddenly, I feel much, much worse than I had felt previously.

"Kabra!" I whisper to Dan. "Ian Kabra- the one I was doing research on!" His eyes widen.

I feel like slumping down in a chair and trying to set my thoughts in order. Atticus and Dan have to drag me to class because of this.

All I can think of on the way there, and all that flashes in my mind, is Ian Kabra's bright, golden eyes. And I can't help but think…what about him is so _evil?_

 **Aahhhh, Ian's in it! I'm not sure what to do with Natalie yet, but I may as well add her soon. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, Amian shippers!**


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